


When Meelo Brought the Porn

by Shigan



Series: Such Essential and Invisible Things [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Bolin is da man, F/F, Friendly advice, Friendship, I didn't mean to see that, I made a mistake and its hilarious, Korrasami - Freeform, omg she's hot, physical attraction, relationships, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigan/pseuds/Shigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra bites off a little more than she is ready to chew when Meelo accidently gets his hand on a taste of Republic City's choice of finer adult entertainment. The possession of such material spirals Korra into a series of actions and surprising reflections about the whats and what-nots about her and Asami's relationship.</p><p>Part 3 of the 'Bedrolls' continuity. Chronologically third in order.</p><p>Mirror piece. Asami got Bedrolls, Korra gets..... something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Meelo Brought the Porn

**Author's Note:**

> No field studies were conducted for the purpose of writing this story. Beta'd by Ciil the ninja beta.
> 
> This is the third installment of the Bedrolls continuity.
> 
>  **Chronological order:**  
>  The Stake In the Pond  
> Bedrolls*  
> When Meelo Brought the Porn
> 
> *= read this story first.

Meelo, the manliest air-bender in the world, felt as conflicted as he was bored.

He kicked a small pebble across the cracked pavement, coated it in a push of his air-bending and sent it impossibly far away through the alley. A loud, satisfying clang was heard moments later, a cat mewled and scurried away between dustbins and piles of garbage.

The city could be sooo boring. He disliked going downtown with his father even on the best of days, and today was one of them. To make things worse, Ikki had received permission to go with Jinora on official airbender business for the first time, without him, because he “would be in the way”. Whatever that meant. He knew father meant well, and Meelo supposed it _was_ nice when Tenzin sometimes gathered him and Rohan to spend some time together. They _were_ the only boys in the family and boys had to learn to do _boy_ things, which supposedly one could only learn from a _dad_.  Also, the ice cream was nice. Tenzin had always bought them a big cone each, whenever they had to come to this narrow, cramped street behind the Little Ba Sing Se plaza.

A crash was heard from inside the brick-red building beside him, followed by a strong gust of wind shattering a window and raising a small cloud of dust. The air smelled of earth and bitter herbs. It knocked over a potted plant, which he caught in the last second. The commotion was soon followed by a woman yelling in surprise. The familiar, high-pitched wailing started seconds after.

Meelo groaned. He strained his ears and tried to listen to what dad and the old, grey-bearded doctor inside were saying. He _hated_ when his brother cried, especially for dumb, grown-up reasons like this.

Parents supposedly knew the best, but Rohan was _fine._ Why couldn’t mom and dad just see that? So what if he didn’t speak? They already had Ikki, who talked enough for ten people, why couldn’t his brother just be the other way around? Rohan could climb a tree and kick a ball, and understood Meelo perfectly when he followed him around with his big, round eyes. He couldn’t really understand why his brother had to tell them in words.

These trips downtown would be so much better if they didn’t have to come here. They never ended well. Dad would always look worried and Rohan would be an angry, inconsolable mess on the way home. And Meelo himself was never allowed to go inside, not after the first disastrous time, which lead to his present situation.

Stupid trappist, thurapist, therapist.

He kicked another pebble, wrapped it in air and sent it on its way, up, up--

“Ow!!”

Meelo looked up, panicked. A lanky boy, older than him and rough looking, turned around and glared at him angrily. He was rubbing the back of his head with one hand and trying to hold onto a huge stack of magazines with the other.

“What was that for, squirt?” he asked.

Meelo swallowed, but then realized what the other said. “I’m sorr- hey! I’m not a squirt! You’re just big and bumbly!”

“Oh talking back, are you? Big mouth lil’ fella. You popped me in the thinker! What were you gonna do if I went stupid huh?” The boy walked over slowly in anger, his hand now closed in a fist.

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Well see about that.” The boy leered. He was dressed in stained clothes, tall for his age and had arms that seemed disproportionately long to the rest of his body. Pulling back his arm and fist, he prepared to make a lunge. “Come ’ere and let me see if you’re sorry!”

Meelo wasn’t stupid. This was just good, old aggression. This was _boys_ ’ stuff!. _This,_ Meelo could handle on his own. He simply bent the air around his fist, shaped it and _pushed_ at the older boy, whose eyes widened when a blast of wind suddenly struck his upper body. He called out in surprise, stumbled, and then fell back as in slow-motion, taking the mighty stacks of paper with him. Meelo cringed when one of the stacks broke open and abruptly there was newspapers, brochures and magazines flying _everywhere_.

The older boy got up and saw the mess, suddenly looking like he wanted to cry.

“This is your fault! Now I won’t get paid! Goddamned bender kid.” he hissed furiously, kicked a few of the magazines at Meelo and strode off.

Meelo looked after him, part of him relieved, the other part feeling very guilty. The other boy had obviously been working, distributing the papers to the small shops around the plaza. He often saw older children do this around the city to make a few coins, in plain clothes and dirt-specked shoes, mostly on bikes.

Meelo wished the other boy hadn't tried to hit him. For a few moments, he considered to salvage as much as he could of the papers and go after him, but stopped. Squinting his eyes, he looked closer at one of the magazines which had fallen open. A center-folded poster fell out, right in front of his feet. He studied it, then turned the picture over in confusion.

The door to the brick building swung open, hitting the door chime. Tenzin emerged looking tired and with Rohan at his hip. Both man and boy looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here. Meelo picked up the picture and stuffed it into his shirt at the sight of his father and brother, feeling very confused about what he just had seen.

-.-.-.-.-

 

It was a beautiful day on air temple island.

Korra was trying to make water explode when she saw Meelo perched on a rooftop, studying something in his hands intensely. She had been working on the technique the whole morning and was starting to feel the frustration seeping into her will. It _should_ be working. There was _no_ reason for the water to not react in the way she wanted. Asami had agreed with the key points to her theory of turning water into steam. If done very quickly, the thermic expansion _should_ cause an explosion, which if mixed with some properly timed air-bending could become really interesting. Kind of like how Bolin used heat from rotating earth to shape his lava disc, except, not really .

It wasn’t working.

Korra took a deep breath and focused on the ball of water between her hands, focusing on the circular, sloshing motion while she channelled the heat. She built the power, feeling the fire tickling just beneath her palms, fighting her control impatiently. Then she let go, setting the flames alive inside the liquid with a well-controlled flare. The waterball came alive for a few seconds between her hands, then erupted with a  sad, sizzling sound and broke up in a cloud of steam. Korra groaned and hung her head.

She peeked over at Meelo who had turned a colorful piece of paper over and over in his hand, as if the content baffled him. Feeling annoyed from her afternoon of failed bending, Korra decided to join her friend. Meelo was fun to hang around, _loud_ , but an undeniable source of laughter and mishaps who could brighten (or destroy) much of your day.

She airbent herself up, and waved at the confused-looking youth.

“Hey Meelo,” she greeted cheerfully. “What have you got there?”

“Something strange from the market,” he answered in a mumble, not really looking at her. “Some angry guy dropped it at the plaza after I air-punched him.”

“Yikes, why would you do that?”

“Might’ve kicked a stone at his head, he got mad, then he got bad. It was self-defence.”

“You think that stone might be what ticked him off a little?” Korra admonished lightly.

“Maybe,” came the vague answer, which got Korra even more curious. It was unlike Meelo to pass up a chance to brag. She had expected an explicit recount of his brave battle against a greater and bigger foe, another fanciful tale of his manly deeds, and not a sulky half-admission of wrong-doing. Whatever occupied Meelo’s mind must be pretty big.

“Let me see that.” she said. Meelo paused for a few moments, then handed the folded flyer to her.

Korra flipped the piece of paper open.

And combusted into four shades of red.

She stared, stupidly and bug-eyed and utterly transfixed, at the color-printed full-frontal image of a shatteringly gorgeous and unmistakably _naked_ woman, displayed in a cushy divan of white pillows. The woman was half-seated in sanguine leisure, eyeing the photographer in hungry, succulent glee, while her legs and arms were spread in an outraging pose, designed to show off _absolutely everything there was to see,_ ever.

Korra gaped and closed her mouth repeatedly as if the motion would help her digest what her eyes were transmitting to her brain.

Meelo looked at her questioningly, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction.

“You don’t look very well, Korra.”

“W- wu-- _whaaa_ \--- _spirits take me, where did you get this, Meelo!?_ ” she stammered, her eyes still helplessly glued to details she knew she had no business of seeing. The dark-haired woman in the print had some astoundingly impressive assets, among other things.

“It fell out of a magazine. I just picked it up because I’ve never seen something like it before.” the boy answered, then, with a frustrated grunt he began to pick his nose. “It made me feel a little funny so I kept it. Why is she naked and sitting like that, anyway?”

“Ah, you see, it-- it’s a form of e- entertainment? Sort of.” Korra tried, feeling somewhat out of her depth to explain the finer details of adult life to a nine year old. “She’s naked because it’s a part of the fun.”

“Really?” Meelo looked suspicious, unsatisfied by her shaky answer and furiously red exterior. ”Shouldn’t she be embarrassed? I’m pretty sure Opal and Jinora don’t do something like this for _fun_.”

Blocking out the deluge of sudden unbidden mental images, Korra slapped the paper together and swatted Meelo over the head. She was the avatar, she brought balance and commanded mastery of the elements. She was the mediator of wars and a bridge to the spirits. Explaining why pictures of naked women would make a pre-teen boy feel funny was _so not in her job description_.

“Ahem. I heard your mother call for you ten minutes ago.” she tried quickly.

“Did not!”

“Did too, I bet you skipped some chores again.” Korra attempted a stern glare, which fell slightly short on the scalding surface that was her face.

“You just want the picture for yourself.” Meelo accused.

“Do not, Meelo!”

“Do too, but I did skip some chores.” He grinned, and then raised an eyebrow at Korra’s awkward bumbling. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Nothing, and it's certainly not because of this.” Korra replied, waving the folded piece of paper, trying not to be distracted by the shapes of a beautiful nude woman with a magnificent pair of…... _eyes_ , who looked like she might want to---

“Uh huh. Is it because she looks like Asami?” Meelo suddenly asked, and unwittingly destroyed the fabric of Korra’s world.

-.-.-.-.-

 

The more she looked at it the more it became the truth.

It was as if Meelo’s words had left a permanent mark in her mind. The idea was so bright and insistent that pretending and ignoring it was impossible, the likeliness had taken root and was thriving in the cracks of her mind. She really tried to tell herself the similarities ended at the hair, or the eyes, or again, at the slim, graceful lines of the collarbones, and failing, that maybe at the gracious curve of her waist.

She tried to throw the piece of insulting paper away, but kept finding reasons to keep it for just another hour, or just promptly forgot where it was hidden in her inner pocket. She considered making it  a fire-bending or water-bending accident, but kept making excuses to not use her powers so casually, which was such a blatant lie that she couldn't help but laugh at her pitiful attempts to get rid of the piece of erotic trash. All the meditation and breathing techniques she attempted had failed. All her long years of martial arts discipline fell short. She was pathetic.

The situation was made dramatically worse by Asami just being Asami. Korra had since long capitulated to the idea of her girlfriend being very attractive. The engineer was a fair beauty to begin with, but when combined with her exquisite style and pristine decorum, Asami simply turned heads wherever she went. Some women might have found this intimidating, especially when combined with Asami’s intellectual assets, but Korra was at this point too fond, too dazzled and way too much in love to notice. The very idea of comparing the bright engineer to the grossly explicit picture in her pocket seemed like a ridiculous and unforgiving insult. Korra would rather die, and let her next incarnation deal with the outcome, than let Asami know. 

It was driving her insane. And the more she thought about it the worse it got. She couldn’t really deny the fact that the image made her heart race and her blood surge, downwards, to urges she still felt a bit insecure to express to the other girl. She wished the white lotus had taken social exposure and experience in account when they locked her up. Maybe her relationship with Mako would have turned out differently.

It got to the point where she no longer properly could look Asami in the face, because every gesture and look suddenly took a whole other meaning than the friendly interaction they had always shared. Every hug turned her brain and limbs into goo, because she would suddenly wonder what a specific part of Asami’s body would feel like against her own. Every touch left trails of fire across her skin. Every throw of hair became a tantalizing invitation, mysterious and alluring, and the smell of her perfume could suddenly bring the avatar to her knees.

“Korra, what is wrong?” Asami would ask, face and voice strained and worried.

She had done so one day when Korra had prematurely broken off a kiss. They had been deep in the bamboo groves behind the air temple. Asami in her sparring clothes and Korra freshly cleaned with tousled hair, the engineer having snuck into Korra’s lap. Their moments of intimacy could be few and far between, so they made the best out of their time together, spurred by Korra’s forthrightness and Asami’s enthusiasm.

Korra had dipped her head and was gently nibbling along Asami’s lower lip when the older girl arced her head back, giving Korra unhindered access to the pale of her neck. Caught in the moment, Korra leaned in and pulled Asami onto her, arms encircling the engineer’s waist and hiking slender legs around her own body. She felt Asami go completely soft. A whimper, followed by a soft moan escaped the smudged, puffy lips as fingers tousled into Korra’s hair. Korra was melting and ravenous all at once as she kissed Asami just a little deeper. She could do this forever, getting lost in the dark of Asami’s hair.

All of sudden, the memory of the affronting picture crashed unbidden into her head, mixing with the woman she was holding in her arms, like a douse of ice water and the heat of dragon fire all at once.

She stopped. Head spinning and mouth dry, she closed her eyes to focus and focus _and focus_ her way back to herself, or so help her, Korra would end up throwing Asami to the ground and do _things_ to her. Good things. _Pleasant_ things. Things her rational self argued should be discussed and respected and not carried out in a sheaf of damp grass. Asami deserved better, even if the imaginary vision of her naked and breathless and begging Korra to _take her_ _right here,_ sent every fiber of Korra’s body into something akin to physical pain.

“Korra, are you alright?” She dared to breath again at the sound of Asami’s voice. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

She answered in the affirmative but didn’t dare to look Asami in the face. Merely holding onto the engineer was fraud with risk, but she did so anyway, tightly and deadly afraid of what the simple friction between their bodies could rouse and destroy.

In the end, it was ridiculous and stupid, and pretty damn unbecoming. She was the avatar, the daughter of a chieftain, and foremost, she was a warrior trained and grown. Korra knew she could not run from an adversary within the mind, but she _could_ rise to the challenge, and face it.

“I am ending this.” Korra slammed her knuckles together with a decisive wham, looking as resolute as she could, which wasn’t a whole lot in the light of her present location.

The blinking sign of pink and red neon stuttered in front of her, featuring a dame in a corset combined with low, tight-cut underwear which showed way too much skin beneath the belly button. A large, expensive looking sign reading ‘ _The Pink Plum_ ’ hung above.

“Uuuh, right. Ending this. I totally got your back here no matter what, yeah.” Bolin looked downright terrified at the club sign.

“Seriously Korra, you need to explain what we’re doing,” he stared at the dark wooden doors as if they were the gates of hell. A girl, barely dressed in anything blew a kiss to him from one of the windows. “Right now, and fast. Because the last time I checked, both of us were kinda happily hooked with lovely dames, and in _absolutely_ no need to visit places like this.”

The crystalline crash of bottles breaking could be heard from across the street. It was a busy night in the entertainment district. The street was crammed with nicely dressed people, mostly young and middle-aged men with nice looking girls on their arms. The girls came in a variety Bolin hadn’t seen since his days on the streets, many of them way too drunk to know what was going on, or way too sober to appreciate their company. A perfectly normal night in the shadow of Republic City’s financial district.

“I told you. I am going to prove once and for all that this- this _person_ looks and is nothing like Asami.” Korra gritted her teeth.

“Right, because being an exotic stripper can _so easily_ be confused with being a CEO and genius inventor. I totally get you there.”

“Bo, we’re doing this.” Korra said and corrected her cap. Wearing Bolin’s jacket and with her hair tied up, she felt adequately unrecognizable. “And remember, no using my name. I can’t be seen in a place like this.”

“Goes for both of us. Opal thinks I’m helping Mako out with a case.” he swallowed. “You know what this place is, right?”

She shot him a dirty look. “I would think so. Well?”

“Yeah well, after you, Ms. Avatar.”

“Funny.” she took a deep, shaky breath. They entered.

It was a nice looking club. The interiors were dark in red and grey wood with sparse lightning, high roofed with crystal chandeliers hanging above oval, semi-screened tables surrounding an elevated podium. A few booths were occupied by companies of men, all smoking and drinking in silence while watching the ongoing show. A tired looking brass band was keeping it going. Korra wasn’t familiar with the song, though she might have caught in on the radio before. The whole place had a down-played, kind of private feel to it which suited them perfectly.

They were seated in silence and Bolin ordered drinks for both of them.

“So,” Bolin took a sip and tried to not look at the water-tribe woman dancing on the stage, or the women walking between the tables, or at any women at all, and failing spectacularly on all accounts. “This is how I always imagined our second date would go down. You, me, a whole bunch of other scarcely dressed ladies, and alcohol.”

Korra hid her laughter behind a sip of drink, and grimaced at the fiery taste of hard liquor. “Hah. Really? You imagined us having a second date?”

“Sure, I mean, not now or even way back then. But right after the first? We had fun didn’t we?”

“We did.” Korra’s heart warmed at the memory. “You were the best.”

“Wanna try the burp thing again?”

“What, here?” she shook her head in amusement. “Are you trying to get us thrown out?”

“Maybe? Hey, I said I would come with you. I never said I had to like it.” he shrugged and drank. “Oh man, Opal is going to kill me if she finds out.”

“She won’t. In case she does, just lay it all on me.”

“Was totally planning to do that, anyway.” Bolin smiled and blushed somewhat fiercely when one of the hostesses walked by in an outfit that was either way too much or too little, depending on which way your mind went. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

“About what?”

“About why you think this will help. C’mon, level with me here. We’re in a shady guys’ club because you can’t handle a dancer looking a little like Asami?” Bolin asked sheepishly.

Korra looked pained and stared down into her glass. “It’s not a little. It’s distracting me from absolutely everything. I almost blasted Ikki into the bay yesterday because Asami called out my name. I can barely look at her any longer, and when I do I stare like a creeper because I keep th- thinking about…” she made a vague hand gesture in the stage’s general direction. The dancer, as if on cue, removed a piece of clothing which reminded Korra more of a fishing net.

“...and seeing a fake and naked likeliness of Asami is going to help you get over this? You seriously believe that?”

“Well, yeah? I don’t know, maybe? I mean, the picture started the whole thing. I wish Meelo had never picked it up.” Korra fumed.

“I don’t believe you.”

Korra raised an eyebrow and looked over at Bolin. “What do you mean?”

“Korra, come on.” Bolin insisted.

“No, tell me.”

“Ok, maybe it’s a guy thing, but you’ve been dating Asami steadily for how long? Since you guys popped out from the spirit portal, right?” he pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

“That’s months past. You’ve been walking around with lipstick on your collar or on your face since forever. And during all this time, you’ve never… you know, not even once, _imagined doing stuff_ with her?”

“Well, I…”

“Because that’s perfectly natural, and healthy. We were all budding teenagers together, remember? I used to imagine doing stuff with Opal all the time.” Bolin grinned and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Of course, imagination can only do so much. Sooner or later, you gotta man up and do _the thing_.”

Korra groaned at the usage of that particular euphemism. A gorgeous woman with oiled skin and long legs passed their table, sauntering while casting a hazy glance at them. Korra wasn’t sure what she was doing with her hips, but whatever the swaying, hypnotic motion was doing accomplished drawing her eyes and made her feel queasy all at once. Wow.

Did Bolin have a point though? Had she been watching and imagining Asami in the same ways she was now imagining these women? It seemed preposterous for her to realize this. She would know if she was indulging in fantasies about her own girlfriend, not that she needed it, since Asami was quite happy to instigated physical displays of affection.

Korra loved being with Asami. She loved holding her and kissing her and just being in the general vicinity of the brilliant engineer who could build flying machines that flew faster than a skybison. She was just so amazing. Korra sometimes felt like she spent most of their time together being constantly baffled over the sheer magnitude of Asami’s aptitude. She was the solution to so many challenges and difficulties in people’s daily lives. She would be the inventor of so many incredible things. Her ability to change the world was arguably comparable to Korra’s capacity to bring it into balance. This made the base urges she felt when watching women (and men!) like these seem, well, not exactly shameful, but _unimportant._

“Earthbender to Korra.” Bolin waved a hand in front of her face. She met his eyes.

“Sorry, was thinking about what you said.”

“Which part of it? Doing the thing?”

“No, well, yes I suppose. I was thinking about me thinking of Asami in that context. I don’t think I’ve been doing it… so much. Or maybe I’ve been going about it the wrong way.” Korra tried weakly. “I think I’ve even tried to avoid it, because she is so smart and all those other things.”

Bolin blinked. “Woah, for real? Because from this guy’s point of view, that’s a total, pitiful waste. Breaking news Korra, your dame is pretty damn hot.”

“Gee thanks,” Korra said and shoved him. Bolin looked serious while saying it though. She loved this about him, the fact that he could crack jokes left and right but would never dodge the topic. Mako could seriously take a page from his book sometimes. “I was serious though. I mean, don’t you think Asami is incredible?”

“Youngest CEO of multinational corporation in history, self-made inventor, martial artist and serious piloting skills in every single vehicle known to man? Uh, yeah, she is.”

“I’m just having trouble combining all those great titles she carries with stuff like this.” she nodded to a new dancer on the stage who had turned her back to them. She had at some point removed her black, excessively tight skirt and was making good use of the newfound freedom. Korra stared, Bolin tried his best not too. They both took long sips of their drinks after. “It just seems so cheap to think of her in those terms. She’s this great, brilliant person, and here I am, staring at her chest.”

Bolin was quiet while he considered her words. He ordered new drinks, this time smooth blends with a fruity overtone. Korra found herself enjoying hers.

“I don’t think you should think of it in that way.” he said finally. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Imagine if I would do that to Opal. She might not be a Sato-class genius, but her family is pretty damn impressive, you know. What you’re doing would be like me trying to put off intimacy with her, despite wanting it very much, just because I thought she belonged on the Beifong pedestal along with her mom and Lin and freaking _Toph Beifong_.” Bolin scratched his chin as he tried to find the right words. “It doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t respect the fact that she carries a great heritage, or that she is a very skilled airbender, but at some point, you gotta dare to take one step back and two leaps forward, because in the end she’s her own woman too. Just Opal, and not a Beifong. She’s got the stuff she appreciates and her own desires, and she kinda _chose_ me to be there for them.”

Korra looked over at him, surprised. “That actually makes sense, a lot.”

“Heh, anytime.”

“You think I’ve been putting Asami on a pedestal?” Korra asked, now seriously considering this revelation.

“Korra, we’re in a guys’ club trying to resolve why you get _turned on_ by your girlfriend. I’m no genius but that’s kiiiiinda a yes.” Bolin shot her a lopsided grin. “Just treat her like a woman with the same physical needs as you, or as someone who is as affected by you as you are affected by them. You’re a girl too, you tell me how you want to be treated despite being the _avatar_.”

Korra was silent for a long while while the cogs in her head turned.

“Wow. I’m an idiot.”

“Can’t really argue with that.” Bolin replied cheekily and finished his drink.

“You wanna get out of here?” Korra asked, she felt a bit tipsy but her mind felt surprisingly clear. Talking with Bolin had helped a lot. They could totally have done this without half-dressed women and expensive drinks.

“You sure? I think your Asami-look-alike is on in another two dances or so.” Bolin pointed a thumb at the show program.

Korra took another long look at the row of colourful dancers. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the wrinkly image of the dark-haired dancer, considering it one last time. Then, she put it in the ashtray beside their empty glasses. Maybe the similarities didn’t matter in the end. Maybe, she had been having the correct reaction all along but just guiding it along the wrong direction, like the alterations and flows of chi. She desired Asami in every way, the girl, the genius and the woman. Maybe it was time to grow into this.

“No, let’s go. I’ll be alright.” she said with certainty.

They made it past the bar when they suddenly heard commotion in the back. Two groups of men in half-decent clothing had cornered what looked like a manager and pushing him against the wall, another was bending fire into a blade and holding it to the man’s clothes.

“Hey,” Bolin whispered. “Those guys are from the triads. Looks like they’re doing a territorial shake down.”

Korra grunted in anger. She hated those gangsters. In the same moment, one of the ruffians turned around and caught sight of Bolin. He blinked in recognition and began talking frantically to his partners who all snapped around.

“Well so much for that,” Bolin sighed and suddenly regretted his last drink. “I was actually hoping we could sneak by unnoticed.”

Korra, enraged by the act of extortion, was already charging a huge ball of air.

-.-.-.-.-.-

 

“So, you were just passing by?”

“Yes.”

Korra and Bolin answered unanimously without the slightest hesitation.

Asami, dressed in nightgown, robe and slippers was currently seated in her large office chair made of tasteful dark walnut, looking dubiously over the fidgety pair in front of her. On her desk were an obscenely large cup of strong, black tea and a freshly printed copy of The Republic Post with a frontpage cover featuring a very nervous looking Korra and Bolin being hugged by scores of severely underdressed, well-endowed young women. The pair was standing in front of a building with several broken windows. A half-covered board sign partly reading _‘real girls, real dreams-’_ could be seen behind as members of the triad were being led away by police. 

The pair had, despite their heroics been taken to the police station to give official statements. Lin had sent Asami a short summary. Korra and Bolin had apparantly spent a night downtown catching up when they passed the Pink Plum, heard the commotion inside and decided to stop and check. They had found the triad in the middle of an illicit operation threatening public safety and interfered. The owner of the establishment had been endlessly grateful and granted the pair free drinks for a month, to which both gracefully declined.

Asami rested her elbows on the desk and her forehead against her hands. It was four o’clock in the morning and way too early for _anything_ aside from sleep.

Opal Beifong stood beside her, fuming and with her hair in a state of disarray. Both women were studying the sorry pair before them, looking none too pleased.

“I just got back from the eastern air temple, Bolin. I really needed the rest. You also said you were helping Mako.” Opal sighed disappointedly, her voice was strained. “What were you _thinking_? Going out and drinking this late, and _lying_ to me.”

Bolin looked like a kicked puppy, Korra immediately regretted dragging him along. Opal had come a long way from being that sweet-natured girl she once taught airbending, and could be seriously scary when angered. Judging by how busy Tenzin was keeping her, it was likely she was being slotted to become a master soon.

“At least none of them were hurt. I’ve heard bending and alcohol don’t mix well.” Asami’s tone softened as she looked over to the young Beifong.

“That’s my exact point. You should both know better, and Korra is the _avatar._ ” Opal continued and rubbed her eyes. She shot a questioning glance at her old airbending teacher.

Bolin made an appeasing gesture with both hands and tried smiling winningly. “We couldn't let the thugs have their way. You know me and Korra, right? Team Avatar, always first at the action and all that.”

Asami didn’t look impressed but decided to intercept. “Bolin, why don’t you take Opal home? What’s done is done and everyone needs to sleep. We can try to put all of this into reason tomorrow.”

Korra let out a quiet breath in relief until she met Asami’s eyes and her stomach sank into a cold, dark pit. The green went through her like ice. Asami had most certainly _not_ bought their explanation.

Bolin jumped at the opportunity to make Opal happier and left, giving Korra a not-so-discreet thumb up as he passed the door. This left Korra alone with Asami who was refusing to even look her in the eyes. Korra swallowed ominously, suddenly acutely aware of how dumb and obvious their lie had been. She even still smelled of smoke and alcohol.

Asami stayed quiet. She looked tired, which made Korra feel even worse. She knew the engineer had long days crammed with workshops and meetings and needed her sleep desperately. Instead, she was awake at an ungodly hour to deal with Korra’s heroic mess.

“I’m going to bed.” Asami said finally and moved towards a small door adjourning to her office, her voice and face unreadable. It was a small bedroom with basic comforts such as a fully equipped bathroom and a well-stocked wardrobe. The room was in times the engineer’s second home, especially when the larger projects which she personally supervised drew to a close.

Korra followed and they got ready in silence. Asami brushed her teeth while Korra took a shower. When she got out, she found the dark-haired girl sitting in bed with the covers pulled up around her, her expression still a serious blank. It made Korra cold with anxiety and a little depressed. She hated to be the source of Asami’s troubles.

“You’re angry with me.” Korra said, her voice sounding smaller than she had intended. There was no point in trying to avoid the blow. “I’m sorry I lied, and talked Bolin into it.”

“I’m sure Bolin made his own decisions and can shoulder the consequences.” Asami replied evenly. “I’d hate to be him when Opal figures it out though.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I am, very.” Asami closed her eyes as if she was gathering her words, and when she opened them her gaze fixed Korra where she stood. “I’m also worried, confused and extremely _curious,_ and right now, all those feelings are mixed together. Anger alone would not be a productive outlet for all of them.”

Korra cringed at her words and shivered in her top. “Can I come to bed?” She was happy Asami wanted to talk about it at least, she had expected some yelling.

“You may not.”

“Oh.” Korra deflated.

“I want to hear your reasons, and depending on those, I’ll decide if you’re welcome or not.”

Korra made a face. “How bad does it look?”

“Not good to be honest.” Asami let through a tiny smile at their exchange. “You’ve been acting strange and distant for weeks, you can barely look me in the eye any longer and you’ve been… brushing me off, when I’ve repeatedly told you to talk to me. I passed it off as you being stressed over some of the Earth Kingdom problems, but then, you suddenly decide to visit a _strip club_ , of all things.” She bit her lower lip. “Korra, I know it’s unlikely that you’ve lost interest in me, bu--”

“No!!” Korra’s eyes widened in absolute horror over Asami’s rationale. The worst thing was she couldn’t really fault the logic. Spirits, it really was as bad as she said. “That’s not it! Oh my god, I swear Asami, I’ll tell you everything!”

And so she did. She told the story from the start, from her confrontation with Meelo to her conclusion after talking to Bolin. She told her about the picture and how it had driven her nearly insane. She explained why she had been avoiding Asami in every embarrassing, pitiful detail and watched as the other stared at her incredulously. Korra was uncertain of how much time had passed until she observed the dapples of grey along the horizon. She felt exhausted, and embarrassed, but mostly just tired. She wished she would still be welcome to cuddle up to the other and sleep.

Asami’ mouth had opened to a small o when Korra finally finished. “Wow. That’s...”

“Dumb? Ridiculous? Lay it on me, I can take it.” Korra snorted in self-irony.

“Well, _yes,_ ” Asami said, noticeably amused.

“Bolin said the same. Can we sleep now, please?”

After a few moments of serious consideration, Asami scooted over and let Korra climb in. Korra sank into the pillows with a happy sigh.

“Does this mean you’ll stop avoiding me?” Asami asked, her voice muffled.

“I never meant to do that, but yeah, I’ll work my way around it.” Korra answered, her mind already drifting off into the white pleasure of sleep. “You’re still pretty distracting.”

“In a way, I’m glad this happened. This was very informative.”

“Yeah?” Korra mumbled sleepily.

“This means you _do_ plan to have sex with me at some point, which is a relief.” Asami sounded like she was talking about laundry. “It’s about time.”

Korra, for the thousandth time, flushed to her ears. Asami moved closer and snuggled herself into the crook of her now sensitive neck, one arm around Korra’s shoulder and the other at the low of her back.

“W...Wha-?” Korra stuttered, not really sure if she had heard Asami’s words correctly.

“Nothing. I’m just glad it’s finally on the table. I hope you like negligée.”

Korra groaned futilely and appreciatively at once. She knew right then that the night was ruined and there would be no more sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you have fun? I did. I wrote this after scrapping a rather long manuscript where I just could not get Asami right. I wanted to write a story about physical attraction without it getting too physical, so to speak. I don't mind writing intimacy, but I'm fairly sure this fandom is already well-saturated in material of this nature xD.
> 
> Here's some questions ppl asked me on tumblr or by mail:
> 
> Q:Why don't you write mooore?!  
> S:Work, mostly. I switched careers recently. It keeps me busy.
> 
> Q: What's your favourite thing about Asami?  
> S: Her character development through S1 to S4. On the contrary to her own words in S1, I really do think Asami was daddy's girl back then. She could defend herself and was a wicked driver, sure, but that's hardly the only criterias to being an indenpendent person. She grew a -lot- through the show, they all did, I loved it.
> 
> Q: How long have you been wth the Korrasami ship?  
> S: I never got on. I -love- this pairing because Korra ended up with someone who'd been caring, supportive, kind and a very good friend to her. This is a healthy basis for a relationship. I loved it even more when Mako told Korra he would always have her back. I mean, how many clean break-ups like that do we see in animation? That was seriously big, way to go Mako. You could say I really like the korrasami ship because of the lack of drama from the show. 
> 
> Q: So how about the shipping wars?  
> S: What about them? It's a waste of my time. 
> 
> Q: What's your hair and eye colour?  
> S: Um.... ok? Black and brown.
> 
> Comments are the lifeblood of fanfiction writers. Keep us alive xD!


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